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I doubted the gods would care if a sixteen-year-old was present.

I strongly suspected Mother dragged me there because she was afraid I’d turn into a recluse, like my grandfather. I couldn’t deny that I didn’t seek out other people. Being close to them, feeling their energy call to me, demanding I have a taste, like people were a stand of freshly baked hot cross buns on a snowy day, made me feel like what everyone thought Grandfather was: a monster.

Mother had drilled it into my head that my ability didn’t define who I was, only my actions did. Easy for her to say: she could make people do what she wanted. Big deal. Being ableto suck every delicious inch of their life force until they were nothing but an empty husk was a different story.

They were prey; it was that simple. At the core, I was a creature meant to feed off them. Iwantedto. Cassius had taught me all the tricks to stop myself, but sometimes, I slipped. I could never afford to be too annoyed, or happy, or hot, or cold, or gods forbid, tipsy. Because when I wasn’t in control, I was a monster.

Damian had fun at parties like these. He flirted with half the girls in the room, even the valers. I’d caught him kissing a woman who I was fairly certain was married behind one of the columns supporting the ballroom last Ostara. Because his stupid power was being able to send people for a nap. And yes, the nap could be permanent if he wanted, but whatever. Reversing a sleep spell was a lot easier than bringing people back from the dead.

I knew as much. That had been my main course of study last semester. I did manage to bring back a crow, but it gave me a headache for days.

Damian took pity on me and offered me his glass while Mother had her back turned, arguing with our grandmother. The two women wouldn’t hesitate to murder an acquaintance for each other’s sake, but they adored squabbling almost as much as they loved one another.

Half a glass of champagne wasn’t going to get me sloshed, so I drank it fast, before Mother noticed. Ronan winked at me over his new flute. Sometimes, he was all right.

At first, I thought that the booze must have hit me harder than usual, because what I saw next made no sense. Except Cassius being thousands of years old meant that he let me have watered-down wine at the table since I was seven—the age of manhood where—or when—he was from.Adulthood, to him and most elders, was twenty-five, but little girls and boys became a person capable of agency at seven, likely because that was whenparents were fairly certain they’d survive. At age sixteen, I did not get drunk after two gulps of champagne.

And yet, I couldn’t comprehend what I was staring at. It made no sense.

The little girl in a ridiculous white dress, with flower in her bright red hair, felt like a monster. Just like Cassius. Just like me.

Every single inch of my body went on high alert, demanded I keep staring, just in case she?—

What? What could she do tome?

I didn’t know.

I didn’t want to find out.

Eyes remaining fixed on her, I stepped towards Mother and tugged on her sleeve for attention.

“What is she?” I asked, thoroughly perplexed, tilting my head toward the source of my bewilderment.

I was being uncouth, and my mother raised an eyebrow in surprise. It wasn’t like me, I knew that. At least I hadn’t pointed straight at her and screamed, “what the fuck are you, freak?”like I wanted to.

Unfortunately, my brother heard. “A girl, Luce. Haven’t you seen a girl before? Mom, we need to get him out of the manor.”

My jaw ticked. “I haven’t seen a girl likethat.”

Cassiopea Regis smiled, patting my cheek. “Yes, she is rather pretty, isn’t she? Should I ask for an introduction?”

Ugh.

“Mom, she’s akid,” I groaned. “I meant her life force. It doesn’t feel normal.”

Of course, my mother didn’t know what I was talking about. The only other being in Highvale who could was locked up in a manor on the underside.

“She seems shy. It must be her first year, poor thing. Why don’t you talk to her, darling? You can ask her why she’s different. And maybe you could dance.”

I frowned. I was rather curious, yes, but approaching that kid?I shook my head and spelled it out for good measure. “No.”

My grandmother chortled. She and my mother exchanged a glance. Then they were both grinning.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t interested in a bloody twelve-year-old. I just wanted to know what was wrong with her.

For as long as I could remember, I’d hated the balls at the Hall of Truce. The only form of entertainment I’d had was looking for Kleos, and checking whether she still seemed as weird as the first time I saw her.

There were fifteen occasions where founders were expected to attend. Every single time, I’d looked for her, stared from a distance, and returned to my friends and family, safe in the knowledge that there was another freak in the city.